


It Is A Very Big House, After All

by kyburg



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Advent 2015 Prompt, Advent Calendar 2015, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Gen, Original Character(s), Original Series, The Science is wonky, The author is aghast, The timing is questionable, This is a No GO Zone, Tracy Field Trip, What happens in England stays in England
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 20:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7136123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyburg/pseuds/kyburg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt for the Advent 2015 Collection, still working my way through them.</p>
<p>"The year the Tracy family invades Creighton Manor, with added shenanigans."</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Is A Very Big House, After All

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my, I did not see this coming.

The first time Jeff Tracy visited Creighton Manor, it had been attending an evening's festivities with his fellow NASA cohorts as an astronaut. Bundled into limousines, taken from place to place as celebrities of the hour, he hadn't had the chance to actually see the grounds or the absolute size of the estate.

What he had noticed was Sir Hugh's little daughter, as beautiful and as fragile-looking as a living porcelain doll dressed in holiday finery. Darting quickly from place to place, her long fair hair floating behind her like candy fluff, she was both mindful and uncaring in the same gasp of air. Jeff found himself both surprised and enthralled by the young heiress. She was poised, graceful, polite - and fearless, approaching each of them with questions she clearly wanted the answers to, listening rapt to each and every word before offering her own observations.

Then later that evening, she had snookered them all at billiards, her skirts hitched up expertly to allow her both the modesty and flexibility to make her winning shots, her only aid a step stool to reach the playing field with her pool cue.

When Sir Hugh had advanced on the group to scold her, surrounded by the Americans now laughing at both themselves and the audacity of the twelve-year old girl, she had only tossed her head, huge blue eyes dancing. "Daddy, don't be cross. I was only playing a teaching game with them. It's quite all right."

Sir Hugh Creighton-Ward's daughter, Penelope. 

It was the first time he'd ever considered what it would be like to become a parent, watching Sir Hugh deal with his daughter. With her father's permission (and chaperonage), they had begun their relationship as pen pals. "Miss Penelope" changed into "Penny" over a long set of years, she attending his wedding as he attended her commencement exercises as the seasons turned into years, then decades. 

She had known his sons, each and every one of them before they were born, just old enough to consider being a babysitter but not a godparent. And he learned the lovely young heiress to Creighton Manor was an absolute shark when it came to keeping secrets, her brilliant mind often ignored by those who only saw her pretty face. Organizational skills born and bred into her, an endless sense of duty and loyalty, she had been one of the first people Jeff Tracy had approached when forming up International Rescue. Her response to his written request had been both immediate and enthusiastic, and again Jeff Tracy found himself being escorted inside Creighton Manor.

"Oh, Jeffrey. That black just doesn't suit you." Bending to kiss the back of her proffered hand, Jeff had rose to meet her eyes with as much sympathy as he could manage. Dressed in black herself, she looked back at him with a typically frank gaze only dimmed slightly by the lacy veil covering her face.

"Penny, darling - it's been a terrible year. I am so sorry about Sir Hugh."

"It was his time," she had replied, softer but no less firm. "But your wife, your father! The poor boys, they must be bereft...I surely would be. Such courage, my dear. I am truly sorry."

It had been new then, still. "I am so grateful for friends like you, Penny." Much as she always would, Penelope had taken the lead by grasping one of his hands, making him look into her eyes, away from being recaptured by his own thoughts. That time, she had grinned as her eyes sparkled in mischief.

"Posh! I adore you. Come on in and let's get down to work. Lighten our hearts by getting our hands busy, wouldn't you say?"

Perhaps that meeting had been after the sun had set as well, for years later Jeff Tracy did not remember if it had been day or night. Just that he and Penelope had spent hours in a set of rooms going over the design of International Rescue as an organization, how it would communicate with the outside world, where it would find its place...and how it would remain a closely held secret.

Just a few rooms. Not a very big place at all, really.

Today, standing outside the front doors in broad daylight, Jeff could not for the life of him understand how he had missed it.

Taking his cue from Brains (and Penelope too), Jeff had come to Creighton Manor to see about building a secondary launch and landing facility, not really believing that they could do it within England and certainly not behind Penelope's home. "Jeffrey, be reasonable. Look at what you were able to do with that paltry little atoll you colonized - building a second set will be child's play. There's plenty of space. Nobody will be the wiser."

And then she had placed one perfectly manicured hand on his arm. _"Please."_

Jeff Tracy rarely said no to Penelope. And certainly not when she was right.

He had never seen the place, for itself in the light of day. Simply put, he was floored. "Dad, " Scott had said after whistling softly leaving the limousine, "Your gift for understatement never fails to amaze me."

Turning, Jeff looked at his sons, now standing so closely together on the veranda they resembled a cluster of chicks as they craned their heads this way and that, some mouths hanging open, all of them with wide eyes. He chuckled as Penelope stepped forward to take both Scott and Virgil by the hand, drawing them backward inside the front doors.

"Come, come now. Get aside, I'm told Cook has prepared a special luncheon for all of you. I won't keep her waiting."

"No, Miss Penelope. Of course not, Miss Penelope. Thank you, Miss Penelope."

"Yes, thank you!"

Jeff found himself deeply satisfied watching her order his sons around while cossetting them at the same time. There was something to be said about dealing with "The Quality," as her chauffeur had once confided in him, almost as if in explanation. Jeff discovered that the luncheon today was being served in a drawing room with a fire lit in the fireplace, the large chairs drawn into a semi-circle around it with end tables between them, seven of them with not one exactly alike. The curtains had been drawn back, there was plenty of sunlight but the room itself was cozy and warm, smelling of well-seasoned firewood and a whisper of ancient tobacco.

On each end table, a covered plate rested with a name tag. Finding their places, each of the boys lifted a dome to discover a different plate of food that could be easily eaten with bare hands. "Cook knew she was feeding Americans today, gentlemen. Please feel right at home. We can talk more once you've eaten."

"Turkey - with cranberry sauce and is this cream cheese? It is!" Alan's exclaim of delight only lasted long enough to get the sandwich to his mouth, barely able to repress himself long enough to eat a bite before continuing. "How did you know?"

"Your grandmother was most helpful, boys. I'm glad it meets with your approval."

"But where's yours?" Gordon looked up from his meal long enough to notice Penelope had not begun eating herself, and asked with a cocked head. "Surely, Miss Penelope - you won't make us eat in front of you in your own home, will you?"

Jeff was already on his handheld, checking in with Thunderbird 5 - having John and Alan in the same room in these times made him nervous, knowing the only other alternate was Brains...and he was indeed up there himself, all alone right now.

"Mine is on the way, boys," Penelope reassured Alan, "As soon as your father puts that phone down and joins us, I'll be happy to get started."

His mouth full, Alan quickly replaced the sandwich on his plate. Virgil went as far as to replace the dome over his plate. 

"Father," John announced primly, folding his arms in pique, "Rude."

"...M-mister Tracy, really. Everything i-is f-fine! It's v-very quiet, and even i-if we got a call? Y-you've got Thunderbird 1 right there, 2 is in low orbit with pod 4 loaded and 3 can join you if n-need be." Brains sounded very earnest, trying hard to sound matter of fact in spite of it. Jeff was sure he was willing, but could he really be sure?

"Now, Brains...don't let yourself get over-extended, okay? I don't - "

But he was interrupted, politely so but even so. "M-mister Tracy, with all d-due respect, sir. W-we got this. Sir."

Looking up, he was treated to watching Penelope covering her mouth to hide the smile, her eyes dancing. Hearing Scott blow air, John tap his foot against the leg of his chair, Alan shifting his weight in his chair, the plate rattling against his knees, Jeff watched Virgil stare off into space and Gordon looked up at him with a sad, expectant expression. "Oh, bother," he heard himself bluster. "Of course. My apologies, Penny."

"None taken, darling," she said, laughing. "I seem to recall you had a taste for pastrami on rye. Cook even found some of that lovely whole grain mustard you fancied."

If he noticed John handing Penelope her lunch, while settling into his own as he sat nearest to her, Jeff didn't notice. For once, he was grateful for a cook who knew just how diverse the tastes ran in his household and had no qualms about accommodating each one of them. Yes, it was pastrami, but it was piled high with a healthy marbling of fat, the dressing just tart enough to be noticeable without covering the peppery flavor of the pastrami. Absently noticing both John and Penelope had grilled cheese sandwiches, he listened with half an ear to them discuss the merits of this regional specialty over that one when blended with the estate cheddar Penelope's people made.

"Amazing how much trouble one goes through just to spoil milk, don't you agree John?" To his credit, John only smiled as he hefted his sandwich for closer examination.

"It would appear more study is indicated," he replied drolly, then bit deep. "Wunnerfull."

It was all that, accompanied by crisp-fried English chips. The food was wonderful, everyone had their favorite and the meal was finished as the conversations about building the second set of launch and recovery facilities began in earnest.

Folding her arms and resting her chin on interlaced fingers, Penelope only watched them chatter and throw ideas back and forth with an inscrutable gaze. But her smile remained soft, almost wistful as Cook came to clear away the dishes.

"I'm afraid I'm just too American, Penny," Jeff Tracy said later, aimlessly wandering in the foyer of the stately home. "To me, this is a very empty place with only you and the help living here."

"I like to think of it as something of a showcase, a display piece - like a work of art," she replied airily. "After all, it has been something of my life's work to maintain the place, preserve its history and all." Shifting a painting on the wall into more proper alignment, running a finger across a marble tabletop to check for dust, Jeff watched Penelope mentally checking herself before finding more words to defend herself. Yes, the place was empty - and lonesome - at times, particularly at the holidays when it wasn't being used for entertaining or preparing for yet another party, Jeff imagined.

But she wasn't about to admit that, not to him. And yet, here he was for this survey and he knew immediately when she turned to look up at him that she was aware of that. "Penny, dear - please. Come home and spend some time with us - the boys adore you and we'd love to have you for the holidays."

"I might extend the same hospitality to you and yours, Jeffrey - and you are too kind, really. Haven't your sons ever had a White Christmas? Ever?"

"Have you even gone surfing on Christmas Day, Penny? Hm? You might like it."

She'd only laughed, linking arms with him as they kept strolling through the manse.

They found Virgil in one music room, playing the grand piano he'd found there in sheer delight. "Father, the acoustics in here are amazing. But you know, and I could be wrong of course, but I think they would be even better when the room is full. Am I right, Miss Penelope?"

"Very perceptive of you, my dear. Yes, that was the intention from the start. Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Oh, very much," he answered, eyes shining. "Is there anything I could play for you, while I'm here?"

"Well, there is one piece. But it's a duet, if you would oblige me?"

Seating herself to Virgil's right, Penelope slid a folded sheet of music out from behind the piece Virgil had been working from. "I didn't know you played, Miss Penelope."

"I don't advertise it, I only play a little." Smiling softly to herself, she looked to Virgil for confirmation. "Are you familiar with this one, Mister Tracy?"

"The Bach _Badinere._ Nice choice."

"Shall we?"

Yes, Penelope played "only a little," but it was clear Virgil enjoyed having someone who could keep up with him as they sight-read the piece and completed it without a single mistake, Virgil laughing in spite of himself at the end. "A little! Wow, Miss Penelope - "

"Well done, Mister Tracy!" she had lauded, patting him on the back as she excused herself from the piano bench. "We should do this more often, you're very good! So nice to have you."

Jeff found himself meeting Virgil's eyes and chuckling as Virgil shrugged, still smiling broadly at her departing back. _That's Penny, for you, son._

Gordon, they found with Alan at the shores of the lake, sounding its depth as well as its breadth. "Father, it should be possible to completely submerge the pod storage and delivery system here. The water is particularly clear, but the surface quickly acquires camouflage from all the trees nearby. It's deep, too!"

Alan had waded into the shallows, hands on knees as he looked into the water. "We scared some ducks, but the fish didn't stay gone long. Even the birds will get used to us, I think in time, though. Looks like the bottom is bedrock, Dad. Sediment is pretty thick, but it's solid underneath. She was right. Plenty of room!"

"It really doesn't get cold enough here to freeze solid in the winter," Penelope had added, the wind bringing color into her cheeks. "Barely gets a few centimeters thick at best. Picturesque but not much more use than that."

"And we intend it to stay that way, right boys?" 

Scott, with John in the meadows beyond, were surveying the largest open area with an eye towards both constructing, then concealing the landing strip. Having completed their formal survey, his two sons were enjoying some rare time together with binoculars, bird watching. His oldest and next oldest, a study in contrasts in both appearance and temperament. 

Huffing a sigh, Jeff found himself shaking his head. "Too large, Penny. It feels like I'm compromising a nature preserve or something."

She only chuckled. "Not at all. The foxes could use a little excitement now and then."

"I thought that was what the dogs were for."

"No, darling. That's what the hunters are for. The dogs are to keep everyone entertained. We never catch the silly things, anyway."

"You wouldn't have anything to do with that now, Penny. Would you?"

"Who, me? Who thinks the whole thing a completely barbaric custom, destined for the dustbin? Perish the thought and of course I do. I have everything to do with it. I have Parker and the missus come out, find the burrows and then steer everyone completely clear of them. Entirely!"

"That's my Penny."

"I am pleased you find that agreeable, Mister Tracy." Smiling as she turned to steer him towards another area, she gestured towards a stand of trees off in the distance. "They've been doing it for years. Their predecessors taught them well."

"What do they find, then?"

"Grass and weeds for the horses, darling. Grass and weeds, and perhaps some pretty flowers if it rained the night before."

Blowing air, Jeff shaded his eyes with one hand. "Penny, what will they all do with a full-on facility built here then?"

She frowned slightly, considering it. "I suspect they will do what they have always done when the people come and make a fuss of any kind. Go elsewhere on the estate until the noise ends."

"There's plenty of room."

"I've said that. It's also true. Tell me, Jeffrey - you've had some equestrian experience, haven't you? Perhaps if I took you on a ride to the perimeters of the property, you might gain a better perspective. I must insist, it's very nice this time of year with the change in seasons."

"I've had some," he admitted hesitantly. "Not recently."

"Not to worry. I've just the horse in mind. Won't misbehave until you're completely of sight of your children, don't you fret a moment over it. I'd love to - please say yes."

He only laughed. "I'm thinking it might be a better plan to take the boys as well. If it would be useful to me, think of how much more use it would be to them?"

She clapped her hands and then folded them into a steeple under her chin, delighted. "Splendid idea, Jeffrey. I'll have Parker go to the tables and make the arrangements. How long do you think before the boys are done with their tasks?"

"We'll ask on the way. Come on."

Saddle sore on the flight home in Thunderbird 2, Jeff took the opportunity to compare notes with Scott and Virgil, and they agreed. Penelope Creighton-Ward was generous, effervescent and charming but her home was huge, empty and lonesome in spite of her best efforts.

"Building the backup there would be doing her a favor, she's not wrong." Looking into the space in front of the ship, Scott piloted Thunderbird 2 with Virgil acting as co-pilot for a change, even as he continued to turn over the events of their visit in his mind.

Heads bent together over blueprints and paperwork, Alan and Gordon only had one ear tuned into their father's musings as they continued to negotiate what would be best suited to where, cross-checking with Brains by radio. John, on the other hand, listened in silence, one foot tapping against the floor as he looked out the window.

Blowing air, Jeff sat back and stared into mid-space. "Yes, that's true. But is that all we could do, boys? Give her more of our work to manage?"

"You do have a point, Father," John answered, without turning to look at him. "She already manages that huge estate all by herself."

"What's the fun in that?" Scott added, and Virgil nodded. "I mean, it was wonderful spending the day with her but doesn't anyone go over there just to visit? You gotta admit, that estate is something else."

"Boys, she's always been like that. It's different there."

"Well, she's definitely family," Scott started, then looked away. "But she's not like us. She's like some kind of distant royal cousin or something."

"I knew her father, and he was much the same way," Jeff said in response. "Very much the King of his castle, but his estate was also your home, he never turned anyone away. Old Sir Hugh once told me that during wartime, he had housed the local population at the manor, keeping the grounds as a refuge. He - and his daughter, now after him - maintain the grounds, and look after the estate so it can serve it's intended purpose. It might have started out as some kind of knightly fief, but in today's world, it's a place kept aside for gatherings, memorials, traditions...things to be preserved, cared for."

"You say that like Lady Penelope is some kind of facilities manager, an event planner." John, still looking away, blew air. "But that's truer than I'd like to admit. I don't suppose stating it's not fair is out of line?"

"Life isn't fair, and that's reality," Jeff answered, "But we're talking about people, and changing reality to suit our own ends is what we do as a species - it's our survival. If it's a job description she's been raised to take on, it's not a bad tradition when it's done with a willing heart, right boys? She's not unhappy - "

"Lonesome," Virgil interjected, as Scott breathed a quiet "Yeah," into the space following it. "Maybe, even bored. Too smart to spend that much time bored, it's not right."

Considering the two of them, Jeff found himself cocking his head at them. "She does do her part for International Rescue, but. Boredom when things are slow - It does get her into trouble from time to time. What are you two thinking about?"

"I could fill that music room for a recital, Dad. Piece of cake." Virgil's eyes grew brighter as he smiled gently.

"We could teach map and compass, basic navigation in those meadows, Dad," Scott added. "Sure, we could take along a gaggle of birdwatchers too, if they'd come. Alan and Gordon could run a fishing tournament on the lake."

"And you could set up the telescopes and do stargazing at night, Father." John, finally turning to look at them, nodded firmly. "I'll be happy to help. Finding enough people who will to listen to a former American astronaut will be a snap. You do it so seldom, compared to your colleagues."

Jeff found himself warmed by pride, looking at his sons' faces. "You'd have to take turns, you know and make sure all of our bases were covered at home. But - I think she would welcome the attention, very much. Yes, I'm sure of it."

"...and then maybe, just maybe - she'll come visit us too." Clearing his throat quietly, John went back to looking out the window. "That would be the idea, wouldn't it?"

"At least, it would be payback for all the work she does for us." Scott looked into midspace, gesturing aimlessly as he did so. "We'll all be there to oversee our parts of the installation, so keeping the ball rolling won't be hard. Just, not too many of us will be there at any given time. But, yeah. Could do it."

"Just...not going horseback riding every time, Dad. Okay?" Looking up from his work, Alan grinned through a wince of his own as he shifted in his seat as Gordon patted him on the back in sympathy.

"Deal."

If Penelope was ever suspicious or displeased about the extra attention during the construction of the backup facilities, she never gave a sign of it. She took on the "Miss Penelope, some friends of mine would like to come over and - " requests with bright eyes, gentle smiles and every outward sign of enjoyment. But none of them missed her quick mind cataloguing names, professions and personalities for later. Lady Penelope knew friend from foe, and persons of interest to be utilized at a later date were tucked away like prized recipes.

Parker also appeared well pleased. "M'lady is spending a lot more time on the phone talking to her new friends, it seems," he reported to John Tracy when his turn to supervise construction came.

"Has she?" he said, grinning in spite of himself. "The birders from last week? Or perhaps those mathematicians Dad scared up a month or so ago."

"A chef, to be precise...Mister Tracy, sir." Raising his eyebrows, Parker nodded sagely. "Taken a shine to Lil, he has. And to m'lady, though she won't give him the time of day. You know how it is with 'er."

"Of course," he answered, clapping Parker on the back as he nodded in agreement. "Wouldn't I just."

He found her at the back of the mansion, standing where the back fields met the fencing of the patio, looking out at the fields freshly replanted to cover all of the facilities they had built underneath them. Dressed in comfortable clothing John noted was both casual and terribly expensive by design and construction, she turned to face him as he cleared his throat to get her attention.

"Master John, a pleasure as always. Is everything progressing to your liking?" Pushing the sunglasses up on top of her head, Lady Penelope cocked her head and smiled up at him, much the same as she had the day before and frankly, all the days before that. The sun had laid a new row of freckles across her snub nose, and John inwardly kicked himself for noticing. She had a lovely nose, he decided. Of course he would have noticed any change to it.

It wasn't that he found her attractive. She never showed any interest in he or his brothers, after all. Just wouldn't do, he suspected. And not for the first time, he heaved a huge sigh.

John Tracy was due to return to Thunderbird 5 the next day. Not for the first time, he was not looking forward to leaving. "Lady Penelope, things are going so well, I hate having to tell you so."

"Because that means it will soon be time for your departure," she said softly. "That is clearly not to your liking, I fear."

"No, m'am," he answered, reaching her side to take her pro-offered hand to brush the kiss he had learned when a child meeting her for the first time upon its back. "I always hate leaving this place."

A pause, a brief intake of breath before she took her hand away, and John was looking into eyes that for once were less than certain, a bitten lip giving voice to an internal dialog John was unaware Penelope might actually be having. "I - will be sorry to see you leave, as well. John." 

"Miss Penelope?" Looking closer, John thought as hard as he ever had in his life - that was a blush creeping across the bridge of her nose and across her cheeks, more than what could be counted on from the light breezes stirring outdoors. Swallowing hard, he leaned in towards her, the words slipping out almost as if they could no longer be contained inside him. "I have to admit, I like the idea I'm going to be missed."

"Your precision, your attention to detail? Devotion, skill, depth? Your ability to see directly to the heart of a matter?" Looking away, she folded her arms against herself, dropping the sunglasses over her eyes again. "John Tracy, it's my opinion your family takes you for granted, my darling. _And I adore you."_

It was as if the last handful of words had escaped her unawares and her hands flew to cover her mouth as she turned away hastily, herself as stunned as John felt. He almost thought she would take it all back, quickly say she hadn't meant it but when she turned back to face him, it was with a squared jaw and a fierce glint in her eyes as she took the sunglasses off again.

For the first time he could recall, John found himself standing with his mouth hanging open and had to mentally remind himself to close it. She looked at him and after he'd stood there long enough without saying anything more, she turned completely around. "You don't hear compliments like that very often, I take it then. Pity. Such forbearance, John. Your patience is something remarkable."

"It's not that," he heard himself say to her back, watching her shoulders hunch forward as she crossed her arms and hugged herself. "You've never said anything to one of us that you didn't apply to all of us." She didn't answer, ducking her head, her face flaming. "For the record, thank you. I am going to miss you - I always do, you know."

"I never intended to have a favorite Tracy son, you know." The tone, for all its warmth couldn't help but turn waspish. "I saw your father marry your mother, knew each and every one of you before you were born - and yet.

"Yet. I don't know when you became my heart, John. And it's time, and past time you knew it."

She extended the hand again, turning towards him but this time John didn't hold it at arm's length, using it to draw her close. "I'm not crazy about English gardens or tea parties. Guess it was you I was in love with, after all."

The touch was hesitant, and she didn't step fully into the embrace until she had looked over her shoulder at least twice. "I'm old enough, okay?" John cautioned.

"Barely," the word was breathed not spoken. "While I remember when you were born, and mind - the biology was in place by then I could have children of my own - I was hardly mother material. Not then - and certainly...not now."

She allowed the fingers under her chin, let him tip her head up so her eyes met his. "No. Never that," John murmured. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting."

"Oh, that is so like you!" It was an irritated his, but well meant enough. "You damn fool, kiss me! You'll be leaving soon - "

He hadn't much practice, but somehow it didn't matter. John was a patient man, and Penelope knew what she wanted. Today, it was only a kiss, both knowing any more wasn't possible in any near future they saw for themselves.

"But I do love you," he said quietly, parting from her by brushing the self-same kiss to the back of her hand.

"My heart," she said in wonder, looking at her hands before meeting his eyes. "I'll never forget that. Go be our eyes and ears, my darling. I will be your hands and feet here."

"Think they'll know?"

"Seriously doubt it, we're never in the same place. It's a small world, they say but this is a very big house, after all."

She was so small, he could rest his chin on the top of her head when he hugged her. He took tea and cookies she’d prepared up to Alan when he relieved him in Thunderbird 3, looking forward to the relative solitude of Thunderbird 5 until he traded with his younger brother again.

"Going to catch up with your girl, Alan?" It was so simple, John realized. Misdirect and never mention Penelope and no one was the wiser. Alan only flushed, grinned wildly and began chattering nonstop, never once asking about him or his intentions.

His father? John felt like he had gotten a tattoo on his face. One his father refused to acknowledge, either for good or ill.

"Don't let her play billiards with you, son. She snookered all of us when she was barely out of the nursery - did I ever tell you about how I met Sir Hugh's daughter?"

"Yes, Father. You did."

"Left quite an impression. I didn't even notice how big the house was."

"Yes, Father. I recall. Have I ever mentioned you have that effect as well? We deal with a very big world out there - "

International Rescue, his father's invention with a lot of help from a little English minx he'd met all those years ago. The whole world was her estate, he realized in the quiet of a day before a call had gone out for help from a ship stranded far from port and taking on water. To be preserved and cared for, refuge at need.

When she suggested a monitoring rotation at her estate was not only wise, but necessary, his father grumbled about being spread too thin but agreed, taking a rotation himself at Thunderbird 5 to accommodate it. Jeffrey Tracy, at heart, was still an astronaut after all.

John Tracy spent rotations at Penelope Creighton-Ward's stately home as willingly as he did in orbit aboard Thunderbird 5. If anyone wondered how he managed the long stretches of isolation, he shrugged and mentioned how well Miss Penelope accomplished the same task without anyone noticing. 

A very big world out there. A very big house, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> GODDAMMIT JOHN YOU KISSED THE GIRL. And kept me here instead of working on other things. You...guuuuys. You're so cute together.
> 
> Still working through the other prompts, not giving up. If you hadn't noticed, I wrangle tags for AO3 and one of the things I wanted to do with these prompts was put a piece or two in for properties I wrangle tags for. Thunderbirds is one of my oldest favorites, and I was well into this piece when I finally got to see an entire episode of Thunderbirds Are GO! (and it's a whiz-bang of a show). But this is not that - hope you like the treatment.
> 
> I'm same name over at Tumblr, also have a writing blog there as well.


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